


Cigarettes

by manvsmilk



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Pining, Sex, Smoking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 23:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11701875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manvsmilk/pseuds/manvsmilk
Summary: In which Izaya compares himself to Vorona and takes up smoking.





	Cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all :) This is my first DRRR fanfiction so I hope it came out okay. I have also selected a song to accompany this fic, so that's listed if you'd like to check it out~ I don't own the song or any of these characters. Thanks for reading!

_Song: Trouble by Halsey_

_And I’ve got my mind made up this time_

_Go on and light a cigarette, set a fire in my head_

_Set a fire in my head, tonight_

He stood alone on the rooftop, the cool night breeze ruffling the fur of his coat. The skyscraper reached up towards the heavens he so desperately longed for, pulling him away from the reality beneath him. His feet perched, carefully, across the edge of the building, dangerously close to tipping over towards the dwindling traffic below. This sense of danger, as if at any moment the wind may catch him hard enough to send him toppling downward, was all that kept him alive. A half burnt cigarette perched between his fingers, embers reflecting across his silver rings, and the smoke danced aimlessly into the night.

Izaya Orihara brought the cigarette up to his lips, hard pressed into a frown, and took a long drag. The smoke burned as it filled his lungs, as if his insides were not already damaged enough by the cold that always lingered within him. The nicotine was a soft hum as it lulled him, taking the biting edge off the pain in his chest and the prickle in his eyes. He blew out, the smell of the smoke curling up into his nose. As it drifted, all he could taste was his own hatred.

The cigarettes, the same brand even, reeked like a certain man Izaya preferred not to think about. In the gray billows he puffed from his mouth, he tasted the way the other’s breath would blow across his face as he was yanked from the ground. The smell of the drug would stain his clothes the way it always did when he crept into the other's apartment, shielded in darkness, for no other reason than to stand and wonder why he had come there in the first place. The flickers of light that fell from the end of the cigarette as he tapped his fingers reminded him of the calm that always crossed the other’s face when smoking, a calm so easily broken by Izaya’s mere existence.

Izaya looked out over the city and dropped the butt of the cigarette, watching it disappear in between the flashes of zooming vehicles. He reached into his pocket to pull out the package and light another; he had all the time in the world to burn through the cigarettes like the other had burned through him.

He had come to Ikebukuro this afternoon with his usual intention of riling up the locals. He had met with a client earlier that day and had been about, deciding to pay a visit to his dear old friend. He remembered the way he had thumbed across the surface of his switchblade in his pocket, an eager smirk stretching across his face. He had not intended her to be there to ruin his plans. The three of them had been together: Tom, Vorona, and Izaya’s target. The other had noticed him right away, but had been distracted by the gentle pull of a feminine hand on his sleeve.

“Do not bother,” Vorona had said in her thick, Russian accent. “That man is waste of time and space.” Izaya could still hear the malice behind her words, stinging him, but what had really stood out was the shimmer in her purple eyes. The way she had looked up at his target with parted lips and a flushed face, and the way the other had stared back at her. His eyes had lit up as a genuine, gentle smile crossed his face.

“Get out of Ikebukuro, flea,” the other had spat, his hands clenching, “I have better shit to do today.” And with that, he had turned and lit a cigarette, visibly relaxing as the smoke filled him, and resumed his conversation with the woman at his sleeve. That was the first time that Izaya could remember, throughout his years of torment, that the other had ignored him. Had things really changed so much that Izaya was now not needed at all? Was there really an emotion that the other felt so strongly that it outweighed his hatred for Izaya?

The cigarette smoke screamed _Shizuo_ into Izaya’s mouth. The name felt angry and out of place as it caught between his lips, similar to the way his tears were caught in his eyelashes. He did not let the tears fall and he did not let the cursed name flow from his mouth; he was far too proud for either. Izaya did not love monsters.

And as much as Izaya did not love monsters, he theorized that Vorona did so quite passionately. Inside the maze that was Izaya’s brain, full of strange hopes and forgotten emotions with each turn, unfolded a scenario that would color his thoughts for a long time.

_Shizuo’s apartment was cleaner than usual when Vorona came inside from the rain. Shizuo smiled at her, offered her something to drink, because she was welcome in his home and she was not afraid to step into the threshold of Shizuo’s private life. Vonora, much like Izaya himself, was captivated by the strength that coursed through Shizuo’s veins, and she was much too eager to ease the edge of loneliness within him. She was all too eager to lean her head on his shoulder as they watched television and had easy conversations far into the midnight hours, sharing smoke and smiles._

Izaya let out a pained gurgle, choking on ashes and the remnants of a swallowed sob. He looked down the length of the skyscraper and wondered if falling would feel similar to being hurtled through the air during a fight. Would it bring the same intoxicating adrenaline that not much else could draw out from within him?

_Vorona was the first to show her affections, of course, because that woman was always dangerously sure of what she wanted, unlike Izaya. Also unlike the informant, Shizuo was afraid to hurt her. He showed her the concern he showed everyone he cared about, hesitant to put his hands on her body in fear of her breaking. But, much like Izaya in the end, Vorona could handle it, because she too wasn’t afraid of him. She insisted, leaning across the couch like a minx with blazing eyes. Her breath came too hot from her lips and Shizuo relented and tangled his fingers in her hair. A blush colored his cheeks as Vorona slipped past his walls in a way Izaya never could._

It wasn't fair. If Izaya wasn’t mistaken, and he never was, the Russian woman had also wanted to fight Shizuo. She was just as dangerous and harsh as Izaya, and yet, here she was, besting him without realizing it. Izaya hadn’t even had the chance to draw his knife in defense. The informant had spent years of his life obsessing, matching Shizuo as an equal and drawing as much attention to himself as possible. If only he had been honest with himself about the intentions of his actions. His lies had finally come back for him, but not in a way he had ever intended they would.

_Shizuo growled into Vorona’s mouth as she climbed on top of him, toned thighs straddling his waist and pinning him to the couch fabric. Shizuo’s hands slipped down to grip her hips with almost bruising fingers, appreciating Vorona’s curvy edges that stood dead opposite to Izaya’s harsh ones. Together, the mash of lips drowned out the bitterness of the cigarettes the two smoked and drew out their love of sweets. The heat of Vorona’s tongue accented the sweeter things in life and chased away the sour taste left by Izaya’s biting lips. Their love was gentle, softening the aggression that often ran within both of them, an aggression that Izaya would have only worsened._

Izaya took another rough drag of the cigarette, enjoying the painful burn it made in his throat. He wondered if Shizuo needed someone in his life that could calm his fire rather than feed it. Izaya was always the moth drawn to Shizuo’s light, pushing the other forward, relishing the knowledge that Shizuo would never burn out. Izaya knew he would never find another that could burn him in the same delicious way that Shizuo did. There was only one monster that could strike him like a match and hide the rest of the world in a blanket of smoke. Behind all of Izaya’s masks laid year's worth of a strange, poisonous affection.

_Vorona’s hands slid up under Shizuo’s shirt, her long nails tickling his skin and pulling a moan from his throat. Their hips grinded together as Vorona pulled his shirt over his head, and Shizuo took the broken kiss as an opportunity to lift her up and carry her to his bedroom. He set her down gently, careful of his strength, and his expression was soft with an emotion Izaya would never see. Vorona’s usual harsh frown pulled up into a relaxed smile as Shizuo leaned down to plant kisses across her neck and down onto her chest. In these moments, Shizuo became more human to Vorona than any other, and offered her the hummingbird fingertips a monster could never produce. His fingers wrote silent melodies as they touched her and the tune of them sang out of Vorona’s mouth in moans._

Izaya hated the way his chest twisted. The cigarette did nothing to calm him despite the large drags he was taking, coughing out smoke and telling himself the choking noises were a result of this and nothing else. Izaya’s hatred for the other was as hot as the lighter he struck his thumb over, burning through another cigarette. He felt bile heavy with cinders and withheld emotions gathering in the back of his throat. He had, throughout the course of his life, learned many times how it felt to be no longer wanted or needed.

_Vorona’s hands ran scratches down Shizuo’s back as they shed the remainder of their clothing. His name was a chorus on her lips but a dead weight on Izaya’s cotton tongue. Shizuo pulled her closer, drawing them into one so that their skin welded together from the heat of their affections. Vorona’s hair was a waterfall of sunlight as it fell over her shoulders, stark opposite to the shadowy raven feathers of Izaya. Vorona and Izaya were so different, and yet they were the same, helpless under the weight of Shizuo’s broad shoulders and the gaze of his honeycomb eyes._

Izaya slumped downward, sitting on the edge of the building with his feet dangling towards the pavement below. He lit his last cigarette and pondered how long he had been here, smoking through the entire pack and waiting for himself to burn out. His stomach had begun to quake with disgust at the amount of smoke that had filtered in and out of his lungs. He had started to regain his composure, crunching the empty cigarette box between his fingers and sending it spiraling downward as well. By this hour, the streets were mainly empty and the city was the closest to calm it would ever become. In such a loud and messy place, it was all too easy to be swallowed and lost within the collection of faces. He was surrounded by such a large population of lovely humans, and Izaya found himself completely alone.

_Shizuo kissed the top of Vorona’s head when they were finished. He leaned close to kiss against the sheen of sweat that had formed on her unbroken skin, whispering things in her ear that made her blush. He laced his fingers in her delicate ones, bringing those to his mouth as well. It was sickeningly sweet, syrup pooling in Shizuo’s eyes as he took Vorona in. His loneliness, settled deep within him, slowly began the process of fading as Izaya’s began to collect. The couple closed their eyes, entangled in one another, frozen within their own perfect moment, and filled each other with emotions Izaya could not fathom to understand._

Izaya loathed that he seemed to repel sweet things. Affection curled away from him as if it was afraid of the venom in his smile. He had grown to hate sweets. His heart was calloused with the love that he had never given, attempting to pass it away to all humans equally so not to feel the weight of it in his chest. As his last cigarette dimmed and left him in the dark, he decided the weight was too heavy to bare. He would remove this anomaly from his life or he would die trying.

Izaya would kill Shizuo with fire, the same fire that was burning within him right now.


End file.
